The Lady in Question
by s11235
Summary: Arthur's got girl troubles so goes to Gwen for some advice... AU for series 2 spoilers for the whole of series 1
1. Chapter 1

'Guinevere?' Arthur called as looked about him. The laundry was a hive of activity, sheets hanging limply like the masts of ships without wind.

He scoured the room, oblivious to the curious glances being cast his way.

'Sire?'

He spun around, his face only inches from hers. She took an involuntary step backwards. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with exertion and the heat of the room.

'Sire?' she repeated a little uncertainly into the silence which bore down upon them. Everyone else had stopped to watch, frozen in time, the only sound, the drip-drip of water onto the stone flagged floor.

'May I have a word?'

If she was taken aback she did not show it, she inclined her head and wiping her hands on her apron she followed him out of the door.

'Sorry' he said as soon as the cold air of the corridor met their cheeks. She gave him a puzzled, expectant look and he elaborated, 'I should not have interrupted you while you were working,' he looked down

at floor, 'sorry' he said again rather sheepishly.

'It is no matter, my lord' she said politely and he could tell from her voice that she was smiling. He raised his eyes to hers, 'if I am honest I appreciated the break.'

It was so rare for them to spend time together, for him to look at her freely. He drank in her presence, greedily like a man dying from thirst.

'Sire?' she said again, a slight crease wrinkling her forehead.

'Sorry' he said again. _Stop apologising and stop daydreaming_, he thought fiercely, _pull yourself together, you are the Crown Prince of Camelot for pity's sake._

'I wanted to ask if you might give me some advice' he said, his Adam's apple bobbing like a cork in his throat.

Clearly not what she had been expecting, her lips parted in surprise.

'Of course sire, though I am sure there are many others better placed to give you counsel.'

'Well- you see- Guinevere... I wanted to ask you about girls' he said, his face as crimson as his cloak.

'Girls?' she said, deadpan, though he could have sworn he could hear the tremor of amusement in her voice, but it was strangled by her sense of decorum.

'Yes' he replied nervously shifting his weight from one leg to the other.

She bit her lip and nodded.

'Go ahead, laugh'

She descended into silent giggles. After a moment she recovered her composure, 'thank you sire' she said with a wide grin which made his stomach turn over.

'I didn't think you would actually laugh' he said, a little mortified.

'I'm sorry sire. But _you_ coming to _me _about girls...its absurd.'

'And why Guinevere is it so absurd?'

'Because my lord' she said in the tone of one attempting to get a young child to grasp a very simple concept 'you are the Prince of Camelot.'

'I'm sorry?'

'You could have any woman you desire, you are the future King, you are noble, intelligent and very handsome' she said quickly, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.

'Very handsome?' he asked an eyebrow arched.

Her cheeks were on fire as she stammered, 'well that's what everyone says, not me...though that's not to say that I don't think you are...because you-'

'_Guin-e-vere'_ he said with a smile, silencing her instantly. She gulped as embarrassment threatened to consume her.

It was his turn to laugh.

She glared at him, hands on hips, feigning anger. Then her lip trembled as she caught his eye and soon she was laughing along with him. It felt somehow very natural to be standing there with the Prince,

talking with him, laughing with him. It was as if the barriers that divided them had melted away.

But she soon too regained her sense of propriety.

'So sire' she said a little breathlessly, 'what exactly is it you need advice about?'

'Well' he said, taking a breath to steady his nerves and locking gazes with her, 'there's this girl-'

The door to the laundry snapped open, and a woman's head poked out, 'Gwen what in God's name-' she began, 'sire!' she exclaimed, dropping the pile of fresh laundered sheets she was carrying.

'I'm so sorry your majesty' she said scrabbling around on the floor.

'It is no matter' the young Prince replied, ducking down to help her, knocking heads with Gwen as she did the same.

'Sorry' they said in unison, mirroring each other as stood up slowly, rubbing the point of impact rather gingerly, a gentle flush creeping into their cheeks as their eyes met.

Cautiously, Arthur bent again to assist the older woman. He bundled up the sheets in his arms.

'I'll take those sire.'

'Thank you Guinevere' he said formally, and as the old woman disappeared back into the laundry, he added 'could we finish having this conversation in my room at say five o'clock?'

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him she had a million other things to do, that she didn't have time for his little melodramas, but then she remembered who she was talking to.

'Of course my lord' she replied, mouth tight as she inclined her head and vanished through the door.

***

'I'm sorry I'm late my lady' Gwen said breathlessly as she made her way into Morgana's chamber, looking harried, 'the laundry was manic today, the fine material of your dress took longer to repair than

expected, the kitchen staff needed a hand with dinner and-'

Morgana waved away her servant's apology, 'do not worry about it Gwen. Besides,' she said a mischievous glint in her eyes, 'by the sounds of it you had a bit of help with being late from Arthur.'

Gwen flushed in spite of herself, 'it was nothing' she said hastily.

'Did I say it was something?' Morgana asked, trying to sound innocent as she ran a brush through her long, raven black hair.

'You inferred it' Gwen said mutinously, pulling two dresses out of the wardrobe.

'The green or the blue my lady?'

Morgana looked unimpressed 'the green I suppose' she said bored.

'Maybe it won't be so bad' Gwen reasoned.

'Oh it will' her mistress replied dramatically.

The bells tolled five.

'I have to go' Gwen said, 'Arthur-' she began, '-needs me to run an errand' she finished after a look from Morgana.

'I will return as soon as I can'

'Don't hurry back' Morgana replied with a suggestive smile.

***

Arthur was pacing back and forth. She was late, and his nerves were mounting. _Maybe she wasn't coming. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe-_

A knock at the door broke through his thoughts.

'Come in' and Guinevere entered.

'Sorry I'm late sire.'

'That's alright' he said resuming his pacing, 'the point is that you're here now.'

Gwen bit her tongue.

'So what I wanted to discuss...' he said slowly 'what I wanted to discuss...'

'Girls' Gwen said a little impatiently.

'Yes'

'I still think you ought to ask someone else. Someone who knows a little more about girls'

'Well I would like your opinion' Arthur said simply.

'May I ask why?' she replied a half comprehending glint in her eyes.

'You are very close to the lady in question' he grinned.

'Oh' she breathed 'I see' she gave a small smile. Arthur beamed back; glad she had caught on so quickly.

'Any general advice on how to proceed?'

'Show her how you feel' Gwen replied as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

'And how do I do that?'

'Flowers?'

'Flowers, great.' He grinned, 'what kind of flowers?'

'That is up to you' she turned to leave.

'Gwen?' he pleaded, catching her hand, sending electricity pulsing through her veins.

'I have to go and attend to the lady in question, make sure she is looking her best for the feast tonight.'

'I doubt you can improve on perfection' Arthur grinned impishly.

'I can try' she said with a smile which sent his heart aflutter as she slipped through the door.

***

She made her way swiftly through the castle's winding corridors. She supposed she had always known this would happen. Morgana had always been intended for Arthur's bride, for his Queen. But somehow

she could not picture it. They seemed more like brother and sister than lovers. What unsettled her most was the fact that Arthur appeared to be positively enthused by the prospect of wooing his foster sister.

It didn't make any sense. Or maybe it made perfect sense. Gwen shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

Really it was none of her business, whatever it was that was going on. But Morgana was more a friend than a mistress, so didn't she have the right to care? Was her mistress even aware of Arthur's

intentions? Gwen guessed not, though she suspected Morgana would know soon enough.

A very honest part of Gwen knew her intrigue in the subject did not merely lie in her capacity as Morgana's friend. She wasn't sure when it had begun. Perhaps in Ealdor, or as he lay in bed, moments from

death, or when he had risked his life for a servant's, she honestly didn't know. All she did know was that the feeling, whatever it was, had to be quashed. She was a servant. He was a Prince. And that was a

recipe for heartbreak.

***

Gwen had just finished tying Morgana's hair up in an elaborate knot when the latter asked the question which had been on tongue since her servant's return, 'what do you think of Arthur?'

'I'm sorry my lady?' she replied as she fastened a necklace around Morgana's pale neck.

'Do you like him?'

'He is the future King' Gwen said, as if it was an answer.

'I meant as a man?'

'It's getting late, you ought really to be downstairs' she said turning away to straighten the hangings of her mistress's bed.

'Gwen?'

But Guinevere was already out of the door.

***

Arthur leant against the cold stone wall of the corridor, drinking in the cool draft. He closed his eyes, collecting himself before re-entering the throne room where the incessant, inane chatter of the nobility

waited for him. Perhaps another lively discussion debate over whether or not Lady Mary's shoes made her feet look fat, or whether blue really was the right colour for the Baroness. The sound of approaching

footsteps forced him out of his reverie.

'Guinevere'

'Sire' she said dipping low in a curtsey.

She was beautiful in the half light. Her skin seemed to reflect the beams of some non-existent sun, her eyes danced with an emotion he could not indentify. She wore a simple cornflower blue dress with a

white bodice, in her hair was woven a white ribbon and delicate flowers.

'You managed it' he said as she turned to leave.

'I'm sorry?'

'You somehow managed to improve on perfection'

'Thank you sire, it is nice to know that my efforts were not in vain' she said tight-lipped, 'you should be getting back to the feast.'

'Indeed I should' he replied, 'but I'd rather not. Such gatherings are rather tiresome'

'Yes I imagine gorging yourself on food people have spent a whole day slaving over, dancing on floors which have been scrubbed so hard it has made someone's fingers bleed, in a room which has taken us a

week to decorate must be incredibly wearisome for you.'

She flinched at the venom in her own voice.

'I'm sorry sire, I should not have spoken to you so, I had no right-'

He placed a finger to her lips, 'you had every right. I ought to appreciate the hard work which goes into these events, I should not take it for granted. And thankfully you will not allow me to do so' he said with

a smile, 'thank you Guinevere' he inclined his head to her, 'it is good to be reminded of my place occasionally'

She flushed, not sure if he was mocking her. Her lips still burnt where he had touched them. His fingerprint etched there.

'We should be getting back' he said with a grin, then, turning back to her, added 'what do you think of shoes Guinevere?'

'Shoes sire?'

'Yes'

'They are useful to have, your feet would get awfully cold without them' she said a little hesitantly.

'Just as I suspected' Arthur said with a triumphant smile.

'Excuse me?'

'You have just restored my faith in humanity' he said as he flashed her a boyish grin, which stilled her beating heart for a second, as he disappeared into the hall.

***

She waited a couple of minutes and followed in his wake. The throne room was blazing with candlelight, the sound of talking and music interweaving in perfect harmony, the dancers marking out intricate

patterns on the floor.

'Gwen?' said a voice right behind her.

She jumped in surprise 'Merlin' she breathed.

'Where,' he said with an arched eyebrow, 'have you been?'

'Nowhere'

'Nowhere?'

'Well not nowhere obviously, I was somewhere, I was in the corridor.'

'With whom?'

'Whom?' she asked with her heart beating against her ribs so hard she could barely breathe, her voice a little higher than usual.

'You were out there with someone weren't you?'

'Perhaps'

'I knew it!' he said triumphantly, nearly punching the air in excitement, 'and I know who it was' he said in a sing-song voice.

'Who?' she said, dreading the answer, though knowing he would tell her regardless.

'Arthur!'

'So?'

'Arthur and Gwen sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G...'

She didn't stick around for the rest of Merlin's rendition.

***

Gwen watched from the sidelines as Arthur danced set after set with pretty girl after pretty girl. He conversed with them pleasantly enough, but the smile he had hitched onto his handsome face did not reach

his eyes which remained cool and glassy, as if his mind was elsewhere. Then he turned and his eyes met hers. Suddenly they were dancing with some internal light. A sad smile graced her lips and she turned

away, filling the goblet of some nameless lord.


	2. Chapter 2

He rose early to ensure that he would be back to the castle in time for his meeting with the King. Arthur stole out of Camelot undetected. Before the sun was even visible over the horizon he was approaching

the crest of the hill. The light from the sun bled through the sky, staining the clouds a deep pink.

_  
Right_ he thought, turning his mind to the task at hand, _flowers._ He had contemplated purchasing a bunch from a stall in town, but having given them a momentary glance he knew that they were too

ostentatious for her. She deserved more.

He felt foolish as he looked for something she would like. After half an hour of searching and the another half deliberating, he eventually settled on a simple bouquet of primroses, ox-eyed daisies and delicate

white cuckoo flowers, tied up with the red ribbon he had brought with him. Just as he was about leave the meadow he spotted, just beyond the brook at the bottom of the hill, a small, vivid yellow flower,

which reminded him forcibly of the only other flower he had given her, the mortaeus flower which had been used to save Merlin's life all those months before.

He scrambled through the long grass. The stream was too wide to cross in one stride but a number of stepping stones made it easy to traverse. After having picked the flower and given it pride of place he

made his way back across. All went well until he reached the last stone. It wobbled as he put his weight on it, he slipped and was, a split second later, up to his knees in ice cold water.

_Just bloody brilliant._

***

Arthur ran back to the castle, fully aware that he was very nearly late for the meeting with his father. The water sloshed inside his boots as he ran. It was barely seven so mercifully Arthur met few people as

he dashed through the streets of Camelot, though those he did met him with curious looks. The Crown Prince sprinting through the town first thing in the morning, flowers in hand, wet up to the knee, as if his

life depended on it: a strange sight, even in Camelot.

All he had to do was get back to his room, change into some fresh clothes before-

'Sire?' said a startled voice behind him. He stopped dead in his tracks, not really wanting to turn around, her voice, normally so welcome, had been the one he had dreaded.

'Yes?' he said turning to face her, his cheeks burning furiously.

'Flowers' he blurted holding them out to her.

'You're wet' she said blankly not taking the flowers.

'Yes'

'Why?'

'Guinevere' he almost pleaded.

'Sorry sire' she said turning away.

'I fell in a river' he admitted before she could leave.

She stopped and pivoted on the spot to face him.

'Was it a big river?' she asked, her eyes wide and serious.

'What?' Arthur exclaimed.

'Well I don't know what the appropriate enquiry is when you're told the Prince fell in a river' she smirked, 'I thought you were supposed to be graceful my lord.'

'I will have you know it was a very graceful fall actually Guinevere' he said puffing out his chest with a grin.

'Of course my lord' she said inclining her head with an arched eyebrow.

'Arthur'

'I'm sorry sire?'

'Please' he said, his gaze locking with hers, 'call me Arthur.'

'And please' he said looking down at the slightly battered bouquet in his hands, 'take the flowers.'

'Of course my-' she paused and smiling, amended, '-Arthur.'

He grinned, about to turn away, when a sudden thought stopped him.

'So what do I do now?'

'Sorry?'

'Well now I've done the flowers thing. What's next?'

Gwen felt the bile rise in her throat but her fortitude beat it back, 'win over the best friend'

'Um, why?'

'The best friend has the power of veto on all gentleman callers. Being on the good side of her best friend is key, though you already know that. I would also say try to work on getting her parents' approval too,

though of course in this case that isn't an obstacle.'

He became painfully aware that his arms were hanging ridiculously at his sides. He wished he could do or say something, anything, but her matter-of-fact tone made him feel useless and more than a little

uncomfortable. He was, after all, at least partly culpable for her father's death, not having stood up to his own father as he ought to have done.

'But I suppose you're looking for more instructions?' she said breaking the awkward silence.

'That would be great' Arthur breathed, releasing a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding.

'Make time for her, ask her opinions, treat her like an equal, let her know that you care'

'Couldn't I just get her a present or something?' he said rather sheepishly.

'Oh, now you come to mention it, you could get her a small gift too, I'm sure she would appreciate that' she smiled, 'but that's in addition to everything else.'

'I never knew this wooing business was so exhausting' Arthur said theatrically, feigning exasperation.

'Then you clearly haven't been doing it properly' she said in mock condescension waging a finger in his direction.

'Arthur!' Merlin exclaimed, barrelling down the corridor, 'where the hell-' noticing Gwen, 'sorry Gwen, how are you by the way?'

Before she could respond, 'Oh no!' Arthur said clapping a hand to his forehead.

'What?'

'I had a meeting with my father' he looked at the clock in the courtyard, 'quarter of an hour ago!' He dashed away; the water still sloshing in his boots.

***

'So?' Merlin said, spinning to face Gwen, whose eyes were on Arthur's retreating back.

'So...?' her eyes snapping to Merlin's face.

'Nothing you want to tell me?'

'No' she said bluntly, turning away.

'But I'm your friend' he piped up indignantly, 'you can tell me Gwen' he added sombrely.

'No' she said simply, though rather more gently than before.

'I know that you and Arthur have feelings for each other' he said following her down the corridor, 'why can't you just admit it?'

'Because' she said turning to face him, frustration and hurt in her eyes, 'how I feel has nothing to do with it. Arthur doesn't care for me, he is in love with someone else.'

'Then why did he give _you_ flowers?'

'Because they are for the Lady Morgana'

Merlin's jaw dropped in shock.

Then recovering himself said with a grin, 'I don't believe it'

'Believe whatever you want Merlin' her voice flat as she resumed her path down the corridor.

'He forgot his father's meeting today because he was talking to you. That means something Gwen' he called after her.

She paused, 'He forgot his father's meeting because he wanted my advice on how to woo Morgana' she said, not turning to face him, her voice a little strangled.

'And Merlin' she said, her back still to him, 'please don't mention this to Arthur.'

'If that's what you want' he said in a low voice to her shrinking form.

***

There was a knock at the door.

'Come in' beckoned Morgana from her window seat, looking down at the courtyard below.

She did not turn away from the view.

'My lady, I have a bouquet for you'

'Would you mind terribly putting them in some water for me Gwen?'

'Of course not my lady'

She could hear Gwen bustling around, searching for a vase, but the noise did not distract her from the scene below. A large group of guards had made their way through the castle gates, a ragged looking

woman of about five and twenty chained between them. Even at this distance Morgana could tell her eyes were wide with the fear of a rabbit caught in a hunter's trap. She guessed from the terror on the girl's

face, her dishevelled and bloody appearance and the number of guards accompanying her that she was a suspected sorceress.

'I'll just go and get some water' Gwen said, breaking through her mistress's thoughts.

'Thank you' and as the door was about to snap shut, 'and Gwen' the girls head popped back into view.

'Yes my lady?'

'Who are the flowers from?'

'Arthur' she replied her voice impassive, her face a mask.

And she was gone.

_  
Well this was a strange turn of events.  
_

_***_

It was not even dusk when Morgana heard the news that the young woman was to be executed for sorcery at dawn. She immediately went to Uther and attempted to reason with him, tried in vain to

persuade him to clear the girl of the charges levied.

'You have no proof she did it!' Morgana shouted from one end of the throne room.

'And you have no proof she didn't' he said remarkably calm; he was of course used to Morgana's objects by now.

'So you are going to have her killed on hearsay? What kind of justice is that?'

'Where magic is concerned I am not prepared to take any risks'

'And let innocent people die? No you wouldn't want to do that now would you?' she said mockingly.

'I will not sit back and let magic tear this kingdom apart!' he bellowed, riled at last.

'Magic won't tear this kingdom apart, but your tyranny will!'

It was at that moment that the doors flew open.

'Morgana!' exclaimed Arthur.

'Tell him,' she said shaking with anger 'tell him what he is doing is wrong.'

'My lord' he said turning to his father, 'I understand why you wish to act decisively in this matter but I have spoken with the girl and the guards myself and she does not seem to be an immediate threat. I

suggest postponing the execution and holding a trial. I'm not saying I don't agree with your decision, I'm just saying that there are some who would view it as perhaps a little hasty, a little rash.'

'I suppose you are right. Though,' he said shooting a pointed look at Morgana, 'that does not mean the witch will escape punishment.'

She opened her mouth but a sharp glance from Arthur silenced her.

He nodded his assent to his father and left; Morgana trotting behind him.

The moment the door closed behind them Morgana turned to him.

'Thank you Arthur, but-' she began.

'I know what you are going to ask of me, and the answer is no. I will do all I can to ensure the girl gets a fair trial, but I am

not helping her to escape.'

Morgana's face fell, 'I understand.'

'I'm sorry, but I can't.'

She smiled, still feeling rather shaken, 'I know.'

***

His head was buried in a report on crime in the lower town and he was so absorbed that his elbow accidently clipped someone passing him in the corridor.

There was a gasp followed swiftly but the heavy slap of water on stone.

Arthur looked up. Guinevere was standing shell-shocked in the middle of the corridor, the bottom half of dress drenched, clutching a now almost empty pail of water. The water which had not found her dress

was pooling on the floor.

'I'm so sorry' Arthur said frantically, 'I didn't see you there.'

'That much-' she said untying her apron, dropping to her knees and using it to mop the floor, '-was evident,' she said, her voice colder than a frozen tundra.

'I'm sorry' he said nervously, 'is there anything I can do to help?'

She stood up and thrust the bucket into his chest, 'you can refill _that_' she said imperiously, raising her chin.

'Great!' he said grinning.

His boyish enthusiasm melted away her icy composure.

'Come on my lord' she said, as if to a child, 'we haven't got all day.'

He practically bounded after her.

'So' he said walking backwards to face her 'did the Lady in Question appreciate the token?'

'Indeed she did sire'

He grinned, 'that's good to know, but Guinevere, please,' he said more seriously, 'please call me Arthur.'

'Fine' she said taking the bucket from his hands as they reached the well, 'now pump' she ordered.

Arthur obliged.

***

Once the pail was full they headed back into the castle.

'That was hard work' Arthur said as he endeavoured to hold the bucket level, but a reasonable amount of the water had already slopped over the edge and onto the ground.

Gwen merely an arched an eyebrow in response.

'Sorry' he said shamefacedly, catching her eye, though his gaze immediately flitted back to the task at hand, his tongue

stuck out in concentration.

'How is the report looking?' she asked, pointing to the bulge in his breast pocket.

'Not great' he replied, eyes still focused on the bucket, 'I maintain that we need more guards but Father's having none of it' he said shaking his head, then turning it to Gwen said, 'what do you think?'

'Honestly?'

'Of course honestly'

'Well, I think your right, the streets of the lower town are not safe and could do with a few more guards, but the problem is

deeper than that. Poverty, Arthur, that's the issue here. People are not innately evil. They do bad things because certain circumstances arise. I'm not saying that is an excuse, or makes it in anyway justifiable,

but when a man is struck down by infection you can not just alleviate the symptoms, you must find the cause and draw out the poisons. If a man is starving he will steal in order to survive, if his children are ill

he will do anything to have them cured. The petty crimes of the lower town are committed out of desperation, not malice.'

She spoke with a regal authority and a passionate fire danced in her eyes. In that moment he could see her clearly: the once and future Queen.

'I will think on all you have said Guinevere' he said with a smile.

'Thank you for your help Arthur,' she extended her hand for the pail of water.

A sudden frown flashed across his features.

'Did you mean what you said?' he asked quizzically, 'about people not being innately evil I mean?'

'Of course'

'What, even sorcerers?'

'Honestly?'

'Honestly'

'Even sorcerers. I believe that magic is neither good nor bad, it just _is_. Just like any other gift.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well' she said thinking it over, 'if you are gifted with great intelligence then you could use that to find an ingenious solution to a problem to aid the needy or you could use your wit to cheat people out of their

hard earned wages. Magic like any other ability is not, in itself, good or evil, it is the way you utilise it that is important.'

He looked dumbstruck at Gwen.

'Are you alright?'

'Yes, thank you' he said smiling in a dazed fashion, 'it's just that you always surprise me.'

Gwen felt her cheeks reddening and inclined her head, not knowing what to say.

She reached out for the handle of the bucket but his free hand caught hers and raised it to his lips.

'Thank you Guinevere-' his lips brushed her knuckles, '-for your counsel.'

She gulped, her heart beating at the rate of a humming bird's wings, _this,_ she thought desperately, _was very bad news._

_Author's note: this is part 2 of 3 by the way, forgot to mention that before :) hope you enjoy, and thanks for the lovely reviews x  
_


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next few weeks Arthur and Morgana began spending more and more time together. It would not have bothered her, _okay, _she admitted, _it would not have bothered her so much_ had it not been for the

fact that he was seeking her out on an almost daily basis to enquire after Morgana, or as he liked to call her, 'the Lady in Question' and ask Gwen to pass on small gifts to her. A necklace, a ribbon for her hair,

a beautiful leather-bound book. The last gift pained her the most. It had been a book she and Arthur had been discussing only a few days before. Gwen had recalled how it had been the only one her family

had possessed and how her father had read the story to her as a child and how she had grown to love every twist and turn of the plot, every virtue and flaw in the characters. Time and love had taken its toll

on the binding however, and it was now missing a number of its pages.

***

The reasonable, serene Gwen would have granted him pardon for this injury. It was a common enough title, perhaps he had heard the plot and thought it might appeal to Morgana. How was he to have known

that she would unwrap the cloth binding the book with Gwen was still in the room? How was he to know the fierce rush of anguish this gift would cause its courier?

The reasonable Gwen was silenced however, by her jealous counterpart. How could he not know of her feelings for him? How could he have failed to notice? Even if he was ignorant of her pain, his behaviour

could hardly be considered appropriate. But when he smiled at her, when they entered a heated debate, when he asked her opinion and seemed genuinely interested in her answer, jealousy faded away. For

those moments it was just them. No barriers of class and no Morgana.

She wondered sometimes about what might have been had she been a member of the nobility, or he the son of a blacksmith, would things have been different?

When she indulged herself in such questions she shook herself mentally. It did not matter. She was a servant and he was the Prince, and no amount of daydreaming would change that. She would just have to grin and bear it.

And for the most part she bore it well...for the most part...

***

'Guinevere!' Arthur caught her by the arm as she turned the corner.

She looked up at him wordlessly.

'Have you been avoiding me?'

'No'

'But I haven't had a chance to speak to you in almost a week.'

'Indeed'

'Why is that Guinevere?'

'I would think it is because our paths have not crossed.'

He raised a sceptical eyebrow but did not challenge her, 'well,' he exhaled, 'I would like it if they were to cross a little more often in future.'

She turned to leave but his voice pulled her back, 'I have a letter for you' he said rummaging around in his jacket pocket.

'Sorry, it is a bit crumpled,' he said his cheeks reddening as he handed her the envelope.

**_The Lady in Question_**, it read.

She curtseyed and left, before her anger could bubble to the surface.

_Since when,_ she thought furiously, _had she become that jumped up, prat of a Prince's personal messenger. Why couldn't he go and find Morgana himself? The arrogant, lazy, good for-_

She pushed her anger to one side as she knocked, and entered.

***

Before Morgana could speak Gwen thrust the envelope into her mistress's hands.

'It_'s _from Arthur' she added in explanation.

Morgana tore open the letter and her eyes proceeded to scour the page with a hungry intensity.

'Gwen' she said passing the letter to her handmaiden, 'read it'

_The Lady in Question,_

_If I were a braver a man I would have told you this face to face. But I am not a brave man, I will happily fight any adversary to within an inch of my life, and yet I can not express how I truly feel to those I care about the most. For that I apologise.  
However I must tell you that you are a formidable force. You challenge me in ways that no one else can and you make my mind become blanker than a piece of parchment. I can not hear my own thoughts over the sound of my racing heart and my legs struggle to support my weight. Reading that last line back I feel slightly embarrassed by it's over sentimentality, by its cliché, but that is honestly how I feel when around you. I don't fully understand how you are capable of instilling such physical weakness, and why short of it causing me any alarm, it feels perfectly natural; but it is there none the less.  
I struggle to tell you, to show you, how I feel, and for that I am sorry. If you have ever doubted the sincerity of my feelings for you, I apologise and hope that this testament will help to remove some of that uncertainty._

_Yours,  
A not so brave man_

'Gwen?' Morgana asked as her servant's eyes lingered on the last word.

Unable to utter a word, Gwen nodded.

'I know he doesn't use the word 'love' but-'

'Yes' Gwen said, jealousy clenching in her gut.

'Oh'

'Aren't you happy about that?'

'Yeah' Morgana said a little distractedly, 'of course.'

Gwen turned around, hiding her face while gaining her composure, 'I hope the two of you are very happy together' she said brightly as she slipped through the door, her arms piled high with bed sheets.

***

Arthur caught up with her next day.

'So how did the Lady in Question receive my letter?'

'Well'

'There's nothing else you can tell me?' he said his facing falling with disappointment.

'No'

'Nothing?' his eyes were pleading and the sight of them pained her.

Angered by her own hurt, and now the pain she was feeling on his behalf, she said the first thing that came to mind, 'your use of grammar is commendable.' She cringed at the bitterness in her tone and at the

fresh wave of hurt which engulfed his features.

She left him there, in the centre of the courtyard, looking like a spaniel which had just been struck by its beloved master.

***

Morgana wrung her hands with the nervousness which had swallowed her since reading Arthur's letter. She had been avoiding him, trying to order her thoughts. She did not want to hurt him any more than

she had to. He seemed to have quickly sensed that something was the amiss for he had withdrawn into himself and was keeping busy with training. Although she did not wish to leave him in suspended

animation, she half hoped that she might one day wake up and realise she really was in love with Arthur Pendragon. He was a good man, one of the best, but her heart would not allow it. He was her friend,

her brother. It felt wrong. Yet it felt more wrong to hurt him. So she kept putting it off, hoping, though not really believing, that things would change.

It was a fortnight and three letters later before she decided it must be put to an end. She could no longer leave Arthur dangling in hope and melancholy.

She knocked.

'Arthur?' she pushed open the door. He did not look up from his desk, over which he was hunched, quill in hand, the stub of the candle nearly out.

'Arthur?'

After a moment he looked up, his eyes tired, not merely from lack of sleep.

'Morgana'

'We need to talk Arthur'

'I'm busy' he said turning back to the papers in front of him.

'It's about the letters'

He stood up suddenly, instantly alert; 'I have to go.'

'Arthur' she said pleadingly, 'this is important.'

But he had already left.

***

_What was that noise?_ She thought testily, _that incessant knocking._ She rolled over trying to ignore it, but it continued. She groaned, pulling the bedding over her head.

'Guinevere' a voice said commandingly 'open up.'

It was only then that she realised the knocking was at her own front door.

Swaddling herself in her blanket, she waddled to the doorway.

'My lord?'

'Oh' he said rather stupidly, 'you were asleep.'

'Yes.'

'Sorry' he said, 'I thought you were ignoring me.'

'I have to be up at half past four, so could we make this quick?' she turned back into the house.

It was the first time he had been inside her house. It was tiny and comprised of only one room, but she had made an effort to give the place a homey feel, there were wild flowers in a cracked vase on the

patterned tablecloth, charcoal sketches and water colouring paintings adorning the walls and sprigs of herbs hanging from the ceiling.

She flushed as he surveyed her house. She felt totally naked, a feeling that had little to do with the fact that underneath the blanket she wore only a thin nightdress. She felt exposed, worried what

judgements were forming in his mind.

'So?' she said, forcing him to focus.

'Morgana came to talk to me tonight.' He paused looking for a reaction, with none forthcoming, he added 'about the letters.' Again he was disappointed.

'You told her?'

'Of course I did'

'They were private'

'I know'

'You should have asked'

'I assumed you wouldn't mind as she already knew because of the flowers and-'

'She knew even then?'

'Well yes'

'You told them they were from me?'

'Yes, but only because she asked. I'm sorry, I just didn't know it was supposed to be a secret.'

He took a deep breath, 'its okay, I probably should have told her myself'

'Yes, you should have done.'

'Maybe this is for the best, it's good that everything is out in the open.'

'Then this might be the right time to tell you that Merlin knows.'

'Oh' he breathed, 'so that's why he's been acting so strangely recently-' he said grinning, '-well stranger than normal.'

'I'm sorry' Gwen said again.

'I don't mind' he replied gently, 'it would have come out at some point and it brings us one step closer to being able to be together publically, for us to be partners at dances, to be able to walk through the

streets hand in hand. I just need to pluck up the courage to talk to my father, but there's no rush' he said before giving her a question look, 'right?'

She nodded, 'wait until you feel ready.'

'Thank you Guinevere' he said swooping down and placing a swift, chaste kiss on her cheek, 'I will allow you to get back to bed. Sorry for the intrusion.'

***

He closed the door softly behind him and she let out a long breath, her cheeks burning with shame. She was Morgana's best friend, her confidant, she should not be having feelings for, much less encouraging

the man who was to be her best friend's husband. She should not be talking to him so, letting him act so... _inappropriately_.

***

'Guinevere!' he shouted down the empty corridor.

She jumped and turned to face him. He was beaming, though his eyes were nervous

'I just thought I'd let you know, I'm ready'

'Ready?'

'To tell my father'

'Oh' she feigned a smile, 'good?' she offered lamely.

'It is good' he assured her, 'I think I'm just going to tell him how things stand at present over dinner. Do you think that's the best course of action?'

'I'll support you whatever you decide to do'

'What did I ever do to deserve you eh?' he grinned.

'I have no idea' she smiled grimly, 'may I ask you something, what do you mean by at present?'

'I'll tell him how I feel. I just think it would be unwise to mention anything to do with the future, what with the whole Sophia debacle, I don't want him to feel like we're rushing into anything.'

'The future: meaning marriage?'

'Yes I guess, if everything goes well, at some point down the line, maybe' he said flushing crimson and avoiding her eyes.

'I should go' Gwen said turning away, 'good luck with your father. Let me know how it goes' she said over her shoulder.

'What?' he exclaimed. 'You're not going to be there tonight?'

'I think it better I'm not'

'Of course' he said dipping his head to her as she left.

***

'What?' Morgana exclaimed.

'He's going to tell his father about you two over dinner tonight; didn't you hear me the first time?'

'You can't be serious. He's going to tell Uther' she paced back and forth, frantically running her fingers through her hair.

'I don't understand why he didn't tell you about this.'

'Probably because we haven't seen much of each other recently.'

'Why's that?'

'No reason' Morgana said a little too quickly.

***

She caught him just before they went into dinner, 'Arthur we need to talk'

'Not now Morgana, I'm really sorry, can't we talk after?'

'We need to talk now' she implored him. But just then Uther beckoned them in.

They sat down in their usual seats as the food was served. Once the servants had left them Arthur spoke.

'Father I have something I need to discuss with you'

'Arthur,' Morgana hissed, a hint of a warning in her voice.

'Yes?' Uther said, ignoring his ward.

'It is a delicate matter'

'Ah, and one of the heart?' he asked with a raised eyebrow.

'Yes Father'

'Arthur' Morgana said, a frenzied look in her eyes.

'I have developed feelings for a young woman-'

'Don't Arthur!'

'Morgana, please,' Uther said testily, 'go on Arthur'

'I have developed feelings for someone over the last few months. It is not some infatuation or bewitchment, it is real. We have been courting for a while now-'

Morgana stood up suddenly, sending her chair flying backwards 'Arthur I don't love you!' she shouted into the silent hall, her words reverberating in every particle of air.

'I'm sorry' she said, tears starting to make silvery tracks across her cheeks, 'I know I ought to have told you sooner. But I couldn't bear hurting you.'

Arthur's jaw dropped in shock and confusion 'what in heavens name are you talking about?'

'I don't love you and I could never marry you'

'You've totally lost me'

'The flowers, the gifts, the letters, I should have ended it long ago, I know' she sobbed.

'What flowers? What gifts? What-' then the truth struck him with the force of a thunderclap. 'Those weren't intended for you' he exclaimed.

'Then who-' she began before comprehension dawned on her face. 'Of course...'

'I have to go' Arthur said disorientated.

'Would someone please tell me what is going on?' boomed Uther, but Arthur was already out of the door.

***

Merlin jumped away from the door as his master entered the corridor 'Merlin!' he exclaimed 'have you been listening in on a private royal dinner?'

'Wouldn't dream of it' he replied beaming from ear to ear.

'What are you so happy about?'

'I knew it!' he nearly shouted, 'I knew you were in love with her, but she wasn't having any of it.'

'Speaking of _she_, do you know where _she_ might be?'

'Morgana's room?' Merlin suggested with a shrug of his skinny shoulders.

'Right' Arthur said to himself as he sprinted down the corridor.

'Good luck!' bellowed Merlin behind him.

***

He silently pushed the door open. She was bent over the chest of drawers, singing a melancholy old ballad in a low, sweet voice. Absorbed as she was in her task and the rise and fall of the melody she did not

notice him creep up behind her.

He lent in a whispered her name in her ear.

She jumped violently.

'Arthur' she said clapping a hand to her chest, 'what are you doing here? I thought you had a dinner with your father.'

'I did, but I left.'

'What happened?

'I was in the middle of talking to my father when Morgana stands up and shouts that she could never love me'

'Oh Arthur' she said deep concern in her eyes and she reached out to squeeze his arm, but thinking better of it, withdrew her hand.

'Don't you think it strange?'

'Yes' she said her eyes darting between both of his, 'I mean there were occasions when she seemed to have a few doubts but I assumed it was nothing out of the common way, so didn't think to trouble you

with it. I'm so sorry Arthur.'

'You have nothing to apologise for'

'I should have seen this coming. I should have tried harder to protect you from this' she said looking intently, apologetically, up at him.

His mind went blank then.

He leaned down and in half a second his lips were on hers. They yielded easily to his touch, parting just enough to feel the tickle of her tongue on his, inviting him deeper. He wrapped an arm around her waist

and her fingers found their way to his neck and then were weaving themselves intricately through his hair. He had imagined this moment over and over in his mind but none of his feeble daydreams could

compare with this: the feel of her, so real, so solid in his arms, the scent of her, a mixture of lavender and silver polish, the taste of her. He was overwhelmed.

And then suddenly she was pushing him away, her hands were no longer in his hair but on his chest, forcing them apart.

She breathed heavily as she stood there, her lips slightly parted looking up at the Prince.

She felt the beginnings of tears in her eyes, but she held them back.

'I understand that you are upset about Morgana, but-'

'I'm not upset about Morgana'

'Don't deny it. I don't blame you, I just want to protect you from anything else that you might regret.'

'I am not upset about Morgana' he asserted again.

'Of course you are'

'I am not' he said simply, a smile creeping onto his features, 'I have no feelings for Morgana whatsoever'

'Then why' she asked half bewildered half irritable, 'have you been courting her for the last few months?'

'I didn't know I was courting her'

'What?'

'I thought I was courting someone else' he said with a pointed looked.

Gwen gulped, _he surely couldn't mean-_

'You Guinevere' he said meeting her gaze straight on, no amusement on his face now, just pure sincerity.

'But-' she began. _This could not be happening._

'The flowers, the gifts, the letters- all for you'

_Oh but it was._

'But why would you ask me to give you advice about Morgana?'

'I didn't' _  
_

_She could not believe what she was hearing._

She went silent for a moment as she ran through all of their conversations in her head. But he was right, not once had he named the 'Lady in Question' as Morgana.

'But why, Arthur,' she said slightly exasperated 'did you always refer to the Lady in Question in the third person?'

'Erm' he said, looking determinedly at the floor, 'I thought it was romantic' he murmured, only just audible.

She let out a derisive laugh, before clapping her hand to her mouth.

'Look' he said, hanging his head apologetically, 'I told you I was bad at this stuff'

'Arthur' she said trying to hide a smile as she lifted his chin, 'this isn't bad, _this_ is atrocious'

'That's a little harsh'

'Oh really?' she enquired, hands on hips.

'Okay, maybe not' he admitted ruefully, 'so can I have some _really_ basic advice on how to win over a girl?'

'I will give you one cast iron piece of advice Pendragon'

'Just one?'

'Just one' she said adopting a serious tone, 'never -and I mean NEVER- convince a girl that you're in love with her best friend.'

'You're mean' he laughed.

'And you are emotionally stunted' she giggled.

'Hey, it wasn't _just_ my fault!'

'I beg to differ'

'_Even_ Merlin knew I had feelings for you. I'm pretty sure any girl would have read the signs perfectly, but oh no, Miss Leodegrance has to misinterpret every single one'

She opened her mouth in mock fury.

But she couldn't help smiling, 'I'm sorry' she said still grinning.

'So tell me, if you hadn't totally misread the situation, how would I be doing on the wooing you front?'

'Terribly' she replied honestly.

'What?' he exclaimed, 'but I followed your advice!' he said indignantly.

'That was advice for Morgana'

'Not all of it, some of it was more general.'

'But that was for most girls Arthur, and in case you hadn't noticed' she said with mischievous smile, 'I'm not most girls.'

'Indeed you are not' he said wrapping his arms around her, 'so are you going to give me any specific advice?'

'You've got to be joking' she said giggling into his chest.

'What'll I do without you to guide me?' he said in mock distress.

'I don't know' she said innocently, raising herself up on her toes and pressing her mouth to his, 'you'll just have to use your imagination.'

-END-

_Author's note: hope you enjoyed the final chapter x_


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